


treasure chest

by alchemystique



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:30:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemystique/pseuds/alchemystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma finally gets her own place, and takes full advantage of a little bit of privacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	treasure chest

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY CRAP GUYS I WROTE SMUT. WHAT. Based on recent filming spoilers, and because Liz begged me to do it.

The front door clicks shut, and Emma sighs as she slips the lock into place.

Her heart feels full to bursting, but she can't say she feels particularly bad about ushering her parents out the door - it's well past midnight, and despite the fact that she will miss being so close to her family, it's nice to be able to shut the door to her own home after she's seen them off.

It's quiet - just the radio playing softly in her still mostly empty living room as her parent's voices drift farther away down the hallway outside the loft, and as Emma turns to back to her lone guest she smiles.

"Just the two of us," she tells him on a grin - she reaches forward to thumb at the dimple that appears as he bites his lip - the man is sin incarnate, Jesus, how has it taken them this long to get some alone time?

"Bite your tongue, Swan. Now you've said the words we'll have the entire town knocking down your door with some new evil - perhaps a dragon. I haven't seen one of those yet."

She digs a finger into his side as he leads her back towards the couch tucked into a corner. "I have, and they suck, so go knock on wood or something."

She enjoys the way he pretends to know what the phrase means, the slight crease of his brow as he smiles at her like she tosses the stars into the sky every night just for him. Still, she waits with bated breath for a moment just to make sure Leroy isn't just outside the window, ready to announce some new evil for them to take care of. 

(She doesn't think to hard about _them_ being the operative word there - it's no longer an Emma deal, is it, it's EmmaandKillian and he has been at her side for longer than that has been true. Longer than she's allowed it.)

Instead of taking up his earlier position on the couch he stops her in the middle of the room, turning to press his hook into her hip as his hand slides up her forearm, shuffling her to face him as Taylor Swift croons something about fairytales that Emma can't help finding hilarious. 

"Just the two of us, then," he tells her, one half of his mouth ticking up into that horribly genuine grin of his, and the world seems to shrink as she curls her free hand over his shoulder - its achingly sweet and familiar, and when he swings into the steps of a slow dance she swallows against the lump in her throat. 

It's been a long road to get here - Emma's fears only half the battle to get to this moment, the two of them together without doubts or secrets between them, and as much as she may hate the man she does have to thank Rumplestiltskin for creating the circumstances that have led to this. 

And maybe tomorrow she'll drop by the pawn shop to give him that fist to the face she'd threatened so long ago. He's nursing his wounds - Belle gone, and the dagger out of his reach - but he'll be plotting, she knows he will. 

"You're pondering quite viciously, for someone who's just defeated two villains." 

Emma hums, leaning in to tuck her head against his shoulder, and he doesn't protest, the hook sliding across her back to tuck her in close to him. His heart beats a steady rhythm against her ear, and she savors the sound, delights in the steadfast cadence for a moment. 

They sway for a while, content merely to be in each others presence, until the quiet din of music fades out into commercials and she slides past him to switch the power off. 

The awkwardness hits her as they smile at each other across the length of the room - Henry is with Regina, and her parents and Neal are nowhere in sight, and there really is no villain to conquer, no evil to vanquish, no reason on earth to interrupt this night.

"Want some coffee?" she asks like a complete dork, well aware of the late hour and the fact that neither one of them is remotely in the mood for coffee - they've laid their hearts bare to each other in the last forty-eight hours and they're both still here - together.

Killian shakes his head as he slides across the room to her - the hook catching a belt loop and tugging her into him, his hand sweeping over her shoulder and up her neck to dig into the hair behind her ear - she can't be sure she doesn't moan at the gesture, but his eyes darken either way, his face serious as he tilts his head to meet her wandering gaze. 

She pounces - tired of waiting, tired of holding back, tired of doing anything else at all when she could be _kissing him_ , and as they stumble sideways, fused at the lips and tumbling into walls as she presses him backwards with her hips, she's eternally grateful that one of the few items of furniture she already has is a bed.

They don't get far before Killian becomes impatient with being slammed into every surface she can find between the living room and the bedroom - she groans when his arms drop, hand and hook curling around her ass to pick her up, and he breaks the kiss to press a wet trail across her cheek, her ear, dipping down to her neck to suck at the spot where neck meets collarbone.

She's not entirely sure how she manages to yank his jacket down his arms, but they pause against her closed bedroom door to share a laugh as he presses her against the door for leverage while she unsticks one arm and then the other the rest of the way - the angle he has her pressed against the doorway also has her pressed against some very hard evidence of his own ardor, and he bites down hard on her shoulder when she grinds against him - the laughter falls away as he practically knocks the door off it's hinges, barging into her room and spinning them, his knees buckling beneath him at the edge of the bed and he all but drags her down with him, his hand sliding over her hip and up her side, trailing a swath of heat over her as his fingers press into her hair, tugging her into another open-mouthed kiss.

Her shirt disappears somewhere between pressing him up the bed towards the pillows and nearly knocking over the lone lamp in the entire loft in her eagerness to get that horribly unfair waistcoast off of him - she trembles when his fingers map out the dips and curves of her waist before his hands trail up to cup her through the lacy bra she'd chosen perhaps specifically for this moment. His brow quirks in amusement when she shivers at the feel of the hook drifting carefully up the length of her spine, and she swears her vision goes white for a moment when he lifts his head up to wrap lips around one peaking nipple just as the hook _tears_ through the back of her bra. 

(Fifty dollars for a scrap of lace she'll never be able to use again, but _damn_ , was it worth it.

She shrieks with happy laughter when he flips them, hips pressing into hers as he stares down at her like a man seeing water in unending desert - her eyes drift closed as she lets his lips mark a path down her body. 

The soft sigh of fabric as he slips it down her legs makes her toes curl, and he doesn't waste time after that - the feel of his hand sliding up her leg is quickly replaced by the rasp of his beard against her inner thigh, and Emma scrambles for purchase when he uses the hook to pull aside her panties, just the barest hint of a touch against her heated skin.

Emma keens when his tongue darts out to press against her - one, two, three strokes before he curls a finger inside her and she feels the beginnings of bursts behind her eyelids - one hand digs at the pillow to her right as her other presses into the thick hair atop Killian's head, her hips sliding up to meet his mouth as he huffs out an amused laugh against her. 

White-hot heat presses against her skull at the sound, and he curls a second finger into her, tongue rolling flat against her - he holds steady as she rides it out, the chill of his hook pressing into her side as she whines and swears.

She flops bonelessly back into the pillows while he slinks up her body, and she blinks one eye open at him while she struggles to catch her breath.

She's never seen the man more smug in his life, and she'd wipe that grin right off his face if he weren't so entirely deserving of wearing it.

"Shut up," she tells him, as her entire body betrays her words, rolling to curl against him, her hand sliding up his arm to curl around his neck - she can taste herself on his lips, can feel the press of him against her thigh - her stomach tightens at the thought, heat flashing between her legs again, but the man merely presses a kiss to her nose before bending to take care of his leathers himself.

She takes the moment to admire the wide span of his back - the lean muscle and the stretch of his shoulders, the small scar on his right side, the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck - they've been bare to each other before, but this feels different. 

She doesn't let him finish, rolling herself up and across the bed to slide an arm around his waist, fingers dipping along the muscles as she slides an open-mouthed kiss along one shoulder blade - his head tips back on a groan, and in a blink she finds herself pinned back to the mattress, Killian's gaze heady and heated as he slides his heated length against her.

His hand darts out to capture hers as she slides it between them, pinning it up above her head with a glare Emma should not find half as sexy as she does, and he slides home just as he bends to capture her lips again.

Never a loud lover, Emma can't decide if the flush she's feeling is more from embarrassment at the noises she's making or the way Killian is making her feel - she forgets to worry about it as they find a rhythm, his groan fluttering across her throat as she curls her legs around his back, her fingers digging lines into his back as he swirls his hips _just so_.

He mutters nonsense into her ear as he comes, her name curling around his tongue like a passionate plea, and she sighs into his shoulder as he lazily brings her off with his fingers again a moment later. 

She's fairly sure she falls asleep - when she blinks her eyes open Killian has slid off the bed in search of her one and only towel, and he cleans them both off before he curls in beside her, tugging the blanket at the end of the bed up over them both.

Emma doesn't hesitate to tuck herself into his arms, sighing softly when his lips drift across her forehead. "We should do just the two of us more often," he mutters, and Emma's snort drifts across his chest as he rolls onto his back, dragging her with him. 

"I'm not disagreeing with that idea."

Her eyes drift closed again, and she falls into slumber to the feel of fingers drifting softly through her hair, the sound of the steady heart below her ear.

\------

Killian's grin is bright and secretive as he hands her the paper coffee cup, and Emma can't help but press another kiss to his lips rather than open the door and head to their next Storybrooke disaster.

"Mmmm," he mutters against her cheek as she slides her lips below his jaw, to the little spot right under his jawline where - he groans, and Emma grins as she nips at the spot. "We should go."

"Going. We're going. In a second."

He slides his fingers below the waistband of her jeans, shooting her a warning look, and Emma throws her head back. "Fine. I'm going. We're going. No more distractions."

The way his eyebrow tics up tells her he doesn't believe her. 

"I'm a grown woman, Killian, I can control myself. It's not like you're irresistible." (Right. It's taking everything she has not to lock the door back up and drag him to her bedroom. Willpower is apparently not something she has in spades.)

He turns for the door at that, though his smirk tells her he still doesn't quite believe her, and she pauses, fingers curling into the pocket of her jacket.

"Hold on, I've got something for you."

She doesn't let herself waver over it - just digs the thing out of her pocket and hands it to him, no real preamble or explanation.

He curls his fingers around it, eyeing the key with mild confusion before he darts his gaze up to her. "A key, love?"

"Just in case you...need it."

It takes a moment for him to understand, but when he does he shoots her an expression dancing somewhere between shock and disbelief. "Just in case I need it."

"Or, you know. If you want to use it. You can. Whenever."

His fingers curl around the thing like its his most prized possession, his eyes a bit watery as he drags her back in for another kiss - at this rate they're never going to leave.

She tells him as much when they break for air, but he practically growls at the warning, nosing at her chin as his lips edge towards her ear. "The villain of the week can wait a bloody minute."

Her thigh hits the entryway table and she grins into his mouth as he tugs the coffee cup out of her hand and presses her into the wall once more.


End file.
